


Mutually Exclusive

by scandalsavage



Series: Happily Ever After [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sexual Assault, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It fails, M/M, No Sex, Rating May Change, Referenced Childhood Sexual Abuse, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change, Weddings, difficult conversations about csa, good guy Slade, it's more like Attempted Coerced Sex but don't worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-04-03 20:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Slade and Jason are ready to make a public (and legal) commitment to each other.Jason’s life is good and he’d very much prefer to leave the past in the past where it belongs.But it’s a unwritten law of nature that if something good happens to Jason Todd, something bad must follow.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, past Jason Todd/Joker | Jack Napier
Series: Happily Ever After [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528388
Comments: 173
Kudos: 623





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know what I want to do with this and where it’s going but there are a few different ways I can write it up and I don’t know how it will end up coming out. I don’t actually expect the rating to change, I’m not planning on including any super explicit sexual content, but better safe than sorry so please be sure to check updated tags/warnings/rating. 
> 
> I’m sorry to throw some angst into this happy universe, but who even is Jason Todd without some kind of history of tragedy?

Wedding planning is a pain in the ass.

Especially when your fiancé’s answer to every question about his preference is, “Whatever you want babe.”

Jason glares at Slade after the fifth time.

“If you’re not going to help, then we’re not going to get married,” he snaps at the older man.

Slade just smirks at him. “Fine with me, kid.”

“You’re a liar, Slade. A liar and an asshole.”

The bastard doesn’t even argue. They’re definitely getting married. At this point, Jason thinks Slade would seriously consider kidnapping him and hiding away with him somewhere their families wouldn’t find them.

But then that would solve their biggest problem anyway.

“I told you,” Slade says patiently, “we’re not doing anything until you fix things with your father.”

“It bothers me that you two are so chummy now,” Jason mutters.

“We have something in common now,” Slade answers easily, taking a sip of his coffee and setting another in front of Jason.

He cups his hands around the mug and lets the warmth seep into his skin.

“Don’t pull that sappy shit with me,” Jason says. “You two may be best friends now but he still fucked me over just to test you. He’s got some serious issues with boundaries.”

Ignoring Slade’s eye roll and infuriating snicker, Jason sips his coffee. Then nearly sips it out when a terrible thought occurs to him.

“You are not allowed to ask my dad to be your best man,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

“Billy is going to be my best man, Jason,” Slade responds without looking up from his tablet.

“Oh. Right.”

“You know, since Joey’s not an option anymore.”

Slade is grinning without looking up at him. Jason knows he’s teasing but he still scrunches his nose in distaste.

“I’m serious, Jason. Have you even told him?”

“I’m sure you handled it,” Jason snarks. Or one of his brothers probably did anyway.

With a sigh, Slade clicks off his tablet and gives Jason his full attention.

“You don’t want to do this without him,” Slade says gently. “You know you don’t. You don’t want to look back on the ridiculously expensive and somehow still shitty photographs and not see him there. You’ll regret it forever.”

He’s right. The asshole.

Jason flops back in his seat with a huff. He keeps thinking that if he gives it more time, he won’t be so mad. That some of the anger and disappointment and just straight up disbelief would dissipate. It’s been a year and a half since his dad cut him off to test Slade’s commitment to what, at the time, the older man wouldn’t even call a relationship.

And now they’re getting married.

The fight with his dad had been real. Bruce can say what he wants now, but he never approved of Jason’s future plans; kept trying to get him to switch majors. Get an MBA, join the family business. So the reasons his dad cut him off were real issues they had. And none of that’s changed. But would this whole engagement even be happening if his dad hadn’t done what he did? Would Slade have ever come around if they hadn’t moved in together?

It’s hard to figure the right balance between indignation and gratitude.

Either way, whether he’s ready or not, it’s time to work things out.

“I hate it when you’re right,” Jason growls.

“I know,” Slade responds, standing and kissing him on the head as he goes to get ready for work.

Two days later, Jason finds himself sitting in his father’s office, staring at each other from opposite sides of a large, gaudy mahogany desk.

They sit there in silence for several long minutes. Until Bruce’s posture relaxes and he leans forward slightly.

“So,” he starts. Jason can’t help but smile at the goofy, awkward look on his face. Which seems to help his father even more. “I owe you an apology.”

Jason’s brows shoot up. “Sorry, you what?”

Bruce narrows his eyes at him. “Don’t be dramatic, Jason. This isn’t the first time I’ve ever apologized to you.”

“Nothing comes to mind,” Jason mutters with a roll of his eyes.

It’s his father’s turn to raise his eyebrows, a small smile curling his lips. “When you were 12 and you told me you were never taught how to swim. You asked me not to mention it to your brothers because you were embarrassed.”

“You mentioned it to Dick and he pestered me all summer, trying to get me to let him teach me how,” Jason grumbles. It had been their first real bonding experience. Nearly a year after he got dropped on their doorstep.

He had been slow coming out of his shell. The memory is one of his fondest.

“I apologized then,” Bruce says with a smirk.

It pulls Jason’s lips up into a smile too. Truthfully, Bruce has always been pretty good about apologizing when he’s been in the wrong.

Bruce’s expression turns serious again. “Jason, I know I overstepped. And I’m aware that it was… ill-advised to use a real point of conflict between us as the instigating factor. I… shouldn’t have risked my relationship with you to test Slade. No matter how reasonably sure I was that I was correct.”

That’s another thing that Bruce does well. Not-so subtly remind people when he’s right.

“You—and your brothers—are the most important things in the world. I’m deeply sorry that what I did made you doubt that even for a moment.”

His father stands and moves round to his side of the desk.

Then he reaches down and pulls Jason up into a hug, holding tight.

“I love you so much, son.”

When he stops there and doesn’t add anything stupid like “even when I think you’re wrong or when you make bad choices,” Jason can’t help but melt into it.

He feels a little easy when he leaves; like maybe he should have made his dad work for it a little harder. But he’s always been quick to forgive.

Well.

_Almost_ always.  
  


* * *

  
Slade knows it’s kind of an asshole thing to do, holding the wedding hostage until Jason makes up with Bruce.

In his defense, he never pressured Jason to actually do it. He’s actually really proud of himself for that. For holding back that urge to take control and force the issue. Choosing, instead, to have a frank and mature conversations with his fiancé about the subject.

He feels like he’s growing. As a person. It’s slow, sure. But it’s something that not too long ago, he didn’t even realize needed to happened, let alone recognize that it was something he _wanted _ to happen.

Regardless, once Jason finally makes up with Bruce, things ease into this weird happy family vibe which is entirely alien to Slade.

It’s… nice.

The Waynes offer their help and opinions without solicitation. Which is both endearing and annoying.

Rose and Joey also throw in their two-cents but it’s often to say something absurd and embarrassing. Like when Rose suggests they honeymoon in Vegas to get one of the cheesy heart-shaped beds.

Or when Joey asks who he’s throwing a bachelor party for, his father or his ex.

Suddenly the easiest decision Slade and Jason come to is that neither of them want a bachelor party.

Frankly, Slade would prefer to just go down to City Hall and call it a day. But he also wants to have an actual life with Jason, not just the few short days he’d survive before the kid’s family killed him for not throwing a proper celebration.

They’re good people. Better than him anyway. But fuck if they’re not exhausting.

Which is how Slade finds himself spending the week leading up to the wedding at Wayne Manor. Jason is, despite his bluster, a sentimental man and something of a wannabe hermit. Jason would never say it, but Slade knows that his father’s house is Jason’s happy place. A wedding will put the kid in the spotlight, it makes sense that Jason wants to get married at the Manor, where he’s most comfortable and can sneak away for a couple minutes to himself.

Since he didn’t have any preferences of his own, Slade was happy to accommodate that desire. He just didn’t think they’d have to move in for awhile to finish up the preparations.

It’s awkward to be eating breakfast next to his much younger fiancé’s father (who he used to try to seduce), across from his fiancé’s older brother (who he had a one night stand with), when said fiancé stumbles into the breakfast nook yawning and putting suspiciously finger-shaped bruises on display as he stretches.

“Good morning, son,” Bruce says lightly. He turns the page of his paper, wisely choosing to not acknowledge the situation.

Dick, however, glances up just as Jason walks by reaching high over his head. Right in time to get an eyeful of the couple purple marks peeking over the waistband of Jason’s sweats. The older Wayne boy blushes and turns a quick scowl to Slade before he focuses on his breakfast.

“Mornin’ dad,” Jason mumbles, slugging his brother gently in the shoulder as he passes. “Dickie.”

Slade gets a _very_ chaste peck on the cheek. Again he feels a surge of pride in himself when he resists the temptation to pull Jason into his lap and shove his tongue down the boy’s throat for a sloppy, possessive make out.

They eat in a comfortable silence, occasionally broken by the odd comment or question about the wedding. Mostly between Jason and Dick.

After several minutes, Bruce slides the paper he was reading over to Slade without a word and retrieves his phone.

Slade almost makes a smart assed joke about getting all his papers digitally now and how it’s almost as if Bruce is the old-timer in the room when he notices the headline and grins.

**Janus Industries Death Knell: How did one of Gotham’s most prominent corporations crumble seemingly over night?**

It took surprisingly little, actually. All Bruce and Slade had to do was whisper in the right ears. Now Roman is looking at enough lawsuits to tank his company. Not to mention a couple that could land him some serious jail time.

Outwardly, not much changes about Bruce’s appearance. But the self-satisfaction is so thick in the air Slade can almost taste it.

Not that he’s not also quite pleased with himself. He’s just… very proud of Bruce remembering he has claws and actually using them.

He skims through the article for the main points then sends a couple texts of his own. Probably for the same reasons as Bruce. Janus Industries has a number of lucrative contracts and departments that can be salvaged or cannibalized.

Now that their alliance has born fruit, they can return to their cutthroat competition.

Eventually Damian, and finally an extremely groggy looking Tim, join them at the table. They sit next to Dick across the table from Slade and Jason. Then they all exchange barbs and jokes while they drink coffee and munch on toast.

He and Bruce exchange an uncomfortable look. With Bruce at the head of the table, Slade just to his right, and four young men laughing and teasing like the brothers they are it almost feels like _they’re _Slade is a second parent.

“So,” Bruce says pointedly after clearing his throat. “I spoke to Jack last night—“

The three raven-haired boys in front of him straighten and turn bright, excited eyes to focus on their father while Jason shoves a huge forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“Really?!” Dick exclaims.

“Is he going to make it to the wedding?” Tim asks, sounding as hopeful as Damian looks.

It’s a small nothing little movement; something easy to write off if you’re not paying attention or don’t attribute your entire emotional intelligence to the person. But Slade feels more than he sees the little flinch before Jason stiffens at his side.

“Who’s Jack?” Slade asks.

“Jack Napier—“ Bruce starts only to be interrupted by his youngest.

“Uncle Jack is dad’s best friend since forever,” Damian says. “He travels a lot for work and he’s lived in Germany for the last five years or so.”

“Belgium,” Tim corrects.

Damian scowls at him. “Germany,” he insists.

“It’s not important,” Bruce says. Then smirks at them and says, “But it’s Austria.”

Then he looks back to Jason. “Apparently he never received an invitation to the wedding.”

Jason finishes chewing. Slowly. Then takes a long sip of his orange juice.

“Must be a mistake,” he says finally, without looking up from where he meticulously scoops up the next bit of his breakfast. “International mail. Very unreliable.”

Knowing Jason as well as he does… the words sound exceptionally insincere to Slade. The tension and unease feel like they’re flowing off Jason in tangible waves.

However, no one else seems to notice. They just nod knowingly like the invitation (which almost certainly did not get sent at all) got lost in transit.

“I thought as much,” Bruce says with a bob of his head as he starts primly cutting his frittata. “I assured him it was a mistake and he promptly rearranged his schedule. He’ll arrive tomorrow afternoon.”

Subtly, Slade watches Jason out of the corner of his eye while the others wear their anticipation on their sleeves. All the muscles in the kid’s body is coiled and he seems to be carefully controlling his reactions and words.

“Where’s he staying?” Jason asks, still avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Even though he sounds fine—if a little uninterested—everything about his body language screams at Slade that there is something very wrong.

“Jason,” Dick scoffs. “Seriously? Uncle Jack is gonna stay with us, of course. Right, dad?”

Bruce narrows his eyes at Jason like is son has said something particularly silly. “Of course.”

Jason’s eyes finally dart up. He glances Damian’s direction so quickly Slade is certain no one else saw.

“It’s your wedding, Jay, and you’ve always been Jack’s favorite. I figured you could pick him up from the airport.”

The kid is quiet so long that everyone glances at each other.

“Jay?” Bruce asks, concern creeping into his voice. “Are you alright, son?”

“I’m fine,” Jason answers just a tad too sharply. “What time does he land?”

“3:15. He won’t have any checked luggage.”

“Can’t. I have a class. Sorry.”

It takes all Slade’s control to keep the frown off his face.

Jason does not have a class at all tomorrow afternoon.

It’s not like him to lie about things like that.  
  


* * *

  
He should have known.

Everything was going so well.

It should have been his first clue but he was too caught up in the excitement.

But it seems to be one of the secret laws of nature that whenever something amazing happens to him, something awful isn’t far behind.

He gets tapped for a special school program for high achievers, then his mom gets really sick (eventually dying) and he has to drop out.

He finds out Bruce Wayne is his father, moves in with him and his wife who is so kind and understanding and gentle. Then Talia dies.

He’s top of his class despite starting off behind, makes his dad proud, finally bonds with his brothers and then…

Jason leans back against the bathroom door and takes long, deep breaths until the shivering in his guts and under his skin stops.

Slade knows something is wrong and Jason desperately doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s gone this long without talking about it and he sees no reason to change that now. Not here. Not where his brothers live.

Their wedding is five days days away. He doesn’t want it marred by… by _this_.

At least he and Slade decided to stay here _before_ they found out Jack was coming. It would have looked suspicious if they’d done it now.

Or maybe it wouldn’t have. Maybe he’s just being paranoid.

They don’t know, after all. Dick was gone for college and Tim was just a kid. Damian was a baby…

And he’s still so young..

About the same age Jason was back then…

What matters is that Jason and Slade are here. They’re here and Jason isn’t an insecure, terrified kid anymore. He’s prepared. He knows what to expect.

Splashing some water on his face helps bring him back from his daze. But he still knocks his forehead against the marble countertop.

Jack Napier is the last fucking person Jason wants at his wedding.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slade investigates his suspicions. Jason tries to pull himself together and brace for a few days of acting. Some brotherly bonding is deeply appreciated.

_ It’s been over a year since Jason’s world changed like a princess in a fairy tale (not the prince, the prince is never the one who gets whisked away to a fancy castle. It’s always  _ his  _ castle). He still can’t get used to waking up in a soft bed with all the blankets he could want. Warm. Clean.  _

_ The bedroom they gave him is bigger than the apartment Jason lived in with his mom and da—and Willis, before he disappeared and she died.  _

_ He still can’t bring himself to call Bruce ‘dad’ even though he likes B a lot more than he ever liked Willis. The whole concept of a ‘father’ has just left a bad taste. But the man hasn’t pushed. And Jason appreciates that. _

_ It’s been a little easier to think of the three other boys as his brothers. Even if Tim doesn’t like him very much and Dick is always gone and Damian is a baby.  _

_ Truthfully though, Jason feels a lot more comfortable with Talia. And he knows it’s a babyish thing to do, but he clings to her like a shadow.  _

_ She doesn’t seem to mind. She combs her fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to tame his unruly curls and always has a hug for him. They're warm and gentle and undemanding. It's the first time he's ever felt safe in someone's arms. _

_ Jason meets Jack for the first time right before Talia gets ill. It's clear Bruce loves him. It's clear Talia doesn't. Dick comes home from college in Bludhaven to see him and Tim is clearly smitten.  _

_ They call him Uncle Jack and he insists Jason does too.  _

_ So he does. _

_ Jason's seen smiles like that in the Alley during the couple months between his mom's death and finally getting snatched up by CPS. It's best not to get on the bad side of those smiles.  _

_ Uncle Jack says the same things to Jason that he does to the others. But the tone is different. Sweeter. Slicker. Darker. _

_ Like candy. _

_ But no one else seems to notice. Talia occasionally narrows her eyes at the man but there's nothing overt. And Jason tells himself he's being paranoid. Tells himself that the short time he spent sleeping in cardboard and trying to avoid those candy smiles has him imagining things. _

_ The darkness of the slums doesn't touch the billionaires in their ivory palaces. He's safe here. He's never alone. Talia or Bruce is always there for them. When one is at work, the other stays with the kids. Jason doesn't need to worry. _

_ Then Talia dies. _

_ And Uncle Jack is all too delighted to prove that darkness touches everything. _

_ * * * _

Jerking awake because of nightmares is a familiar sensation, it just hasn't happened in a long time.

It's fucking cheesy and sappy as shit, but... Jason hasn't hardly even thought about Jack since Slade became a fixture in his life. Like the giant businessman had driven the scrawny creep out of Jason's mind completely.

Now though... now Jack is back in his dreams with a vengeance and Jason manages to hold his shit together just long enough to crawl out of bed, carefully so as not to wake Slade, and dart to the toilet in the ensuite before throwing up what is left of his dinner.

Pressing his heated forehead to the cool porcelain, Jason tries to get a grip. If he’s too anxious, Slade’s going to press the issue and Jason is pretty sure that Slade is the last person he wants to find out. After his dad, of course, but for entirely different t reasons.

He's not sure Bruce will believe him. Jack is his best friend, they knew each other before Jason was even born, let alone before Bruce knew he existed. And Jason isn't sure he can handle it if Bruce doesn't. He knows he won't be able to handle the fallout with the family if they think he's making it up or say that he was a kid and he probably misunderstood.

Slade, on the other hand... Slade  _ will  _ believe him. And there is zero doubt in Jason's mind that Slade will kill Jack. 

So it's entirely possible that Jason loses literally everyone he cares about by the weekend if he doesn't keep his cool.

It'll be impossible to ignore the bastard completely. Jack will make sure of it. He always reveled in subtle comments and jokes and gestures that everyone else could write off but alluded to the truth. He won't settle for flitting around the fringes and leaving well enough alone.

Not to mention... Jason has to keep an eye on Damian. Jack's more of an opportunist than anything else, and Damian doesn't have the baggage that Jason did that made it so easy for Jack to dig his claws in, but... but now that Jason is physically capable of defending himself, he wouldn't put it past Jack to try. Just to dig the knife in deeper.

At the very least though, Jason can speak to the photographer and tell them not to take any pictures of the prick.

Just because Jack's going to be at his wedding, doesn't mean Jason has to remember it later.

Quietly, Jason untangles himself from the toilet and brushes his teeth.

It's just after 4:00 AM when he slips out of the bathroom, pointedly not looking at the huge lump in the blankets that cover Slade's relaxed muscles, and grabs the first jeans and t-shirt he can find.

He has to minimize his time around Slade. The older man can read him like a fucking illustrated book. Jason managed to make sure he was always with one of his brothers yesterday then hid out in the library until he was sure Slade would get the picture that Jason really didn't want to talk and stop waiting up for him.

It's just a few days, Jason thinks as he slips out the door and soundlessly pads down to the garage where he walks his bike down the drive to the street. Then Jack will leave again, putting an ocean between them, and Jason can go on his honeymoon with Slade, and things can go back to normal.

Just a few days and then Jason will never have to worry about the creep again.

* * *

Slade can't say he's particularly surprised to find Jason gone and the younger man's side of the bed cold when he wakes. But he  _ is  _ disappointed. 

Usually, Slade is the one avoiding the necessary, emotional conversations.

It's a fruitless effort too. The longer and more desperately Jason avoids him, the more convinced Slade is of why the kid doesn't want Uncle Jack around.

And if Jason thinks not confirming his suspicions will stop him from murdering the fucker and dropping his weighted corpse over the Mariana Trench, the kid doesn't know him as well as Slade thought he did.

The only thing Slade doesn't really understand is how he seems to be the only one who's noticed. Jason's wearing his discomfort like a tattoo emblazoned across his forehead and every one just goes on like they can't see it.

The first person he runs into after leaving his room is Dick. Things are still... awkward between them. Mostly on Dick's part. Slade gets some wicked satisfaction every time the older Wayne boy sneers at him.

It's not jealousy. Dick is protective of his younger siblings; worries about their well-being.

So why didn't he notice?

He's the perfect place to start.

"Can we talk?" Slade asks, getting straight to the point.

The kid cringes where he sits at the counter, munching on a bowl of cereal and flipping through a comic book.

“I think the time to talk about things is pretty far behind us, don’t you?” Dick grumbles past a mouthful of Lucky Charms.

Slade snorts and pours himself a cup of coffee before turning his attention back to the eldest Wayne boy.

“Absolutely,” he agrees with a smirk. Then he frowns. “Tell me about Jack.”

Dick coughs on milk and blinks up at him.

“Where’d that come from?”

Slade shrugs. “Just curious. Jason’s never mentioned him before.”

The surprise is clear on the younger man’s face as Dick’s brows knit together and he cocks his head.

“Really? That’s weird. They were so close.” The kid chews on his lip and eyes Slade up, very clearly trying to decide if he wants to say more. After a moment he rolls his eyes, drops his spoon back in the bowl, and flips his comic closed.

“I wasn’t around much when Jason first got here,” he says, looking guilty and regretful. “I’d just started my first year of college and... well, finding out about Jason was kind of a scandal. Reporters waited for me outside my apartment and my classes... I knew it wasn’t Jay’s fault, he was just a kid, but I was mad at dad.

“I guess here at the manor, Tim was kind of cool towards him. He was already feeling pushed aside because dad and Talia had Damian and then Jason showed up and took what little attention was left for a while.”

He picks up the spoon again and idly pushes the dregs of his breakfast around.

“So Jay latched on to Talia. When I asked about it, dad said it was understandable so I always figured Jason’s stepfather was... well, to put it kindly, an asshole.

“Anyway, Jason had just started coming out of his shell, even let me teach him how to swim, after a lot of needling. Then Talia died and he was devastated. He’d cling to my hip every time I came home like he didn’t want to be alone but started avoiding dad again. Until finally he started pulling away from even me and was isolating himself from everyone. Except Damian. He kinda seemed to decide that without Talia around, Damian was his responsibility. It was sweet.”

Dick runs his fingers through his trademarked Wayne-black hair and sighs.

“Jack had always... I don’t know, felt sorry for Jason or something. He always put more effort into trying to make Jason laugh,” he pauses and chuckles fondly at a memory. “Jack isn’t exactly funny... just in that way that kids like, you know? His jokes are bad and he loves Whoopi cushions and those palm buzzers and lapel flowers that squirt water. But we ate that shit up as kids. And he always tried to make sure Jay felt included. He took a leave of absence from work after Talia got sick so that he could help out and stayed as long as he could after she died. There for a while, Jack was the only person Jason would let near him.

But whatever Jack did, it seemed to get through to Jay. Eventually he started to come around again and Jack went back to work. But he made sure to be around for every holiday and major event. Always made sure to check in on Jay. Jack got transferred to Europe around the same time Jason started college.”

The kid finishes with a  _ look _ that seems to say,  _ You wouldn’t have been able to sink your claws into him if Jack had been here. _

But a different picture is forming in Slade’s mind. One that is a lot less... grateful for Jack’s  _ assistance _ .

He has no doubt that from the outside, with no thoughts to foul misdeeds and no reason to think them, that Jack’s actions seemed motivated by love and a desire to help. And at the time... none of them really knew the new kid yet. They saw him as a victim of circumstance, moving from one tragedy and complicated situation to another and the perception of everything he did was colored by the knowledge that he was a child who couldn’t catch a break dealing with heavy, complex emotions.

Which was true. That’s the heartbreaking part. That Jason’s family gave him space to process; they tried to be supportive without being clingy... they tried to find a balance between letting him have time and being there for him without driving him away.

The story Dick told is much darker with Slade’s suspicions. Jason clung to Dick after Talia’s death because he didn’t want to be left along with Jack. He avoided Bruce because Jack was Bruce’s best friend and Jason was afraid that bond was stronger. Jason didn’t start “coming around again” because of anything Jack did... but because Jack left.

Hell, at this point Slade’s wondering if Jack decided to stay at the manor and “help” after Talia was taken ill... or  _ before. _

Slade has the sudden, sneaking, sickening thought that the only reason he was able to “sink his claws” into Jason at all is because of Jack fucking Napier.

He hopes he’s wrong. God, how he hopes he’s way off the mark. He hopes Jason’s discomfort is just embarrassment for how much he needed the goofy uncle with the bad jokes during a dark time in his life.

Not that the goofy uncle with the bad jokes made that dark time in his life worse.

He’s not overly optimistic. He knows Jason. If someone did all that for the kid out of the goodness of their hearts, Jason would be eternally grateful. He would have been gushing about Jack since day one.

But he hasn’t.

He would have made sure Jack knew he was invited to the wedding.

But he didn't even send him an invitation.

“Thank you,” Slade grinds out from between clenched teeth. “That’s very... enlightening.”

Dick’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is it? Because I honestly would have expected you to know all about Uncle Jack. If Jason has never even mentioned him before... I’m really confused. I feel like I’m missing something.”

Slade takes a big sip of his coffee while he decides how to respond. Dick is definitely missing something. But so is Slade. If his suspicions are correct... it'll kill the Waynes when they find out. Dick doesn't show it often, but the kid has a frightening temper. Slade still remembers the tabloid headlines when Dick snapped and beat the hell out of an old classmate of his who made a pass at 16 year old Tim once.

So no, Slade can't say anything until he's certain. And even then... is it his place? Or is this one of those things he should let Jason handle in whatever way he sees fit?

"I'm sure it's nothing," Slade says finally. "I've been told I'm overprotective and paranoid."

With a snort, Dick stands and takes his bowl to the sink, rinses it out, and puts it in the dishwasher.

"Shocking," he says sarcastically. Then he leaves Slade alone with his thoughts.

Everyone else seems to be out for one reason or another. Damian off to high school; Tim, who isn't doing college the traditional way his elder brothers did, choosing instead to take things at his own pace online, goes with Bruce to Wayne Enterprises.

One would think Alfred would be a font of information. But the old butler doesn’t have much to say, and no insights beyond Dick’s. Apparently, Jack was mostly around while Alfred was away for vacations or lengthy visits to his daughter still in England.

It doesn’t leave Slade with a lot of confidence that he’s overreacting. It seems... purposeful. Alfred has a fondness for all the boys but he and Jason have always had a special bond. That Jack was careful to keep his... interest in Jason in check while more impartial parties were around (first Talia then Alfred)...

Slade’s skin crawls more insistently the more he learns.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of waiting, Bruce and Tim return.

A tall, lanky man with a big smile and big, bright green eyes cracking jokes, hot on their heels.

* * *

Jason spends most of the day trying to unwind. He goes to all his favorite places, the ones that have always been havens when the world starts shifting under his feet and he needs to find some solid ground.

The Gotham Public Library, his favorite bookstore, his favorite cafe next to his favorite bookstore. He even goes to his favorite spot on campus and tries to get some work done.

Around noon he texts his dad and offers to pick up Damian after school since he’s in that part of town. Bruce happily agrees.

So Jason spends the next couple of hours trying his hardest to not think about tonight. Or the next few days.

And how much he resents the tainting of what should be a happy time in his life.

But Jack has a knack for ruining all the good things in Jason’s life. The first gala Jason went to (his second after arriving... he’d skipped the first because Talia had died); when he and his Academic Decathlon team won Nationals; his fucking prom.

His nerves are absolutely frayed by the time he picks Damian up at 3:30. Jack’s going to be at the manor when they get back and Jason feels like he’s going to vomit again.

Damian eyes him warily on the drive, concern etched into every line on his young face, as Jason fidgets. He can’t seem to stop his leg from bouncing, or tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, or fiddling with the temperature.

When Jason reaches for the “cooler” button for the fourth time, Damian puts his hand over Jason’s and stops him.

“Are you alright?” He asks, brows pulled together with worry.

Jason swallows hard and takes a deep breath before he’s able to glance at his little brother and meet his eyes. But he still looks back quickly to the road.

“Yeah man, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. You’re acting... oddly.” Damian smirks. “More oddly than usual anyway.”

Smiling back, Jason reaches over to ruffle the teen’s hair. “It’s just wedding jitters.”

Damian looks up at him out of the corners of his eyes, obviously unconvinced.

“Honestly, habibi. I’m great. Everything is great.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “You would tell me if you weren’t. Right?”

Jason gulps again. He hates lying to Damian. “Of course I would.”

They drive a few minutes in silence before Damian shifts in his seat and starts playing with the hem of his school shirt.

“You don’t have to call me that anymore, you know. I’m not a child and... and I don’t even remember her calling me that anyway.”

The turn for the manor comes too quickly. At any other point during the day, Jason would have been happy for a distraction. Anything to take his mind off the inevitable reunion.

But pulling up the drive... he wishes it wasn’t  _ this _ .

Jason waits until he’s in the garage, car parked, ignition off. Then he turns in his seat to face Damian.

“First of all, you are still a kid. And you should enjoy that for the little time you have left with it. Trust me, squirt, you don’t wanna grow up too fast.”

Damian just crosses his arms and huffs.

So Jason reaches over and pokes him in the arm until Talia’s emerald green eyes look back up at him.

“I know it sucks that you don’t remember your mom. I wish you could have known her. She was... well, she was kindest, most amazing person I ever met. I wish we could swap. I wish you could remember your mom and I didn’t remember mine.”

Damian looks away, eyes glassy. Jason reaches out and clasps a hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

“If you want me to stop, I will. If it’s painful for you... well, I wish you would have told me sooner but—“

“It’s not,” Damian says quickly. “It’s just... if you were just doing it for me... You don’t have to. I don’t need you to take care of me anymore.”

Comprehension floods him so fast, Jason almost laughs.

“No matter what happens,” Jason says, gently but with clear conviction and determination. “No matter how old you get, no matter my relationship status—or yours, for that matter—I will  _ always _ take care of you, habibi.”

Damian’s better about showing his emotions than their dad but it’s still a fairly rare thing that his infamous Wayne composure cracks. But he’s quick to give Jason a hug when they get out of the car and lets Jason keep him tucked under his arm as they enter the house.

Which might be the only thing that keeps Jason on his feet as they leave the mudroom and a too-loud, too-shrill,  _ too-familiar _ laugh rings through the halls of his home. 

Damian squints up at him when Jason’s grip tightens involuntarily. But the teen just adjusts the arm around Jason’s waist and squeezes back.

Jason is grateful his little brother leaves it that as they approach the open doors of the sitting room. Because when Jason takes a deep breath and fixes a smile on his face, it takes all his concentration to focus on maintaining the facade as he steps into the fire.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've come this far, you know what's going on but the nature of Jason's abuse at Jack's hands IS explicitly stated in this chapter. And there is a long, uncomfortable scene where Jason forces himself to interact with Jack as though nothing is wrong.

_Talia's funeral is the most beautiful thing Jason has ever seen. _

_He didn't know something so sad could also be so lovely. _

_Alfred helps him into a nice suit that feels too stiff and it slowly suffocates him at the graveside._

_A steady stream of silent tears runs down his dad's face as the heartbroken man stares resolutely straight ahead, not really seeing anything. Dick's lower lip trembles, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy, and he's blinking a lot, trying to hold it together because Tim is curled into his side bawling._

_Jason fidgets and tries not to cry too. If Dick can hold it together, Jason should be able to as well. He doesn't feel like he's earned the right to feel as sad as the others. He didn't live with Talia for years and years; didn't know her nearly as well as them. _

_He shifts Damian's weight from one thigh to the other and snuggles the kid closer. He’s too young. He doesn’t really realize what’s happened. He keeps asking for his mom and Jason has started trying to run interference because he can see how each time crushes their dad’s heart all over again._

_The atmosphere at the reception is muted and dull. Just as dignified as Talia was in life, but not nearly as bright and vibrant. Jason understands that they’re all mourning and he doesn’t particularly feel like being cheerful himself, but it still feels wrong. _

_He offers to take Damian up to his room for a nap when he starts getting fussy and their dad gives Jason a relieved smile and a grateful squeeze of his shoulder. _

_Damian is asleep before Jason finishes the first story, but he isn’t ready to go back to the crowd. _

_He slowly, carefully closes the door to Damian’s room, keeping the handle down until it’s pressed against the frame and releasing the latch so there’s no click to wake the sleeping toddler._

_Then he turns to head to his room instead of going back downstairs and almost smacks into someone._

_“Hey kiddo,” Uncle Jack’s high, nasally voice hums down at him from behind a too-sweet smile. A pale, long fingered hand rests on the same shoulder Bruce had squeezed earlier, stopping him from retreating too far. “Thought I might catch you trying to hide.”_

_“Uh... s-sorry,” Jason stammers, trying to pull away again. He likes Jack well enough but from a distance. Something about him feels... off. Jason has never fully trusted that smile. _

_“Don’t be sorry. I’m not good with crowds either.” Jack tightens his grip on Jason’s shoulder and grins wider. “Why don’t you show me your room, sweetheart. I’ll help take your mind off your poor, departed step-mother.”_

_Jason is suddenly and overwhelmingly desperate to be back downstairs, suffocating under the pitying gazes of too many strangers. But Jack is already tugging him down the hall to the door with the brass “J”. _

_Uncle Jack turns the lock behind them and the smile on his face when he looks back around is missing that sugary sweetness. Something darker and hungrier in its place._

_Jack’s touch is gentle where the fingers brush over Jason’s cheek, thumb following the line of his lips, before the hand slides down to cup the curve of Jason’s neck, heavy and menacing._

_When the man’s thumb presses against his throat, Jason swallows hard._

_It’s the first time Jack touches him. _

_Later, back at the party, Jason is grateful everyone thinks his tears are for Talia. He doesn't want to be any more trouble than he already has been._

* * *

Maybe it’s his bias going into this first meeting, but Slade’s dislike of Jack is instantaneous.

The man is loud and obnoxious and not funny in the slightest. His voice is high, his laugh is shrill, and both grate against Slade’s ears and his patience.

But worst of all is the way those acid eyes meet Slade’s and stick; twinkling gleefully as he tells story after story about how Jason was a quiet, shy kid who needed to be coaxed out of his shell by a loving uncle, determined to see the boy smile. Story after story about how Jack took care of Jason when he sneaked off to cry in private after Talia’s funeral because he didn’t think he had the right to mourn her like the others. Or the time Jason made it to the national level of some academic thing he was really excited about but it was scheduled for a time when neither Bruce nor Dick could leave Gotham, so Jack surprised Jason by showing up in Minneapolis half way through. Or when Jack had to rescue Jason from his handsy prom date and spent the rest of the night reassuring the teen that not all men are like that.

Jack hasn't even been in the manor for an hour and Slade's ready to see how much pressure it would take to break that scrawny neck. Instead, he grips the side of the rich leather chesterfield so hard he hears the wood creak, and absorbs everything.

The moment Jason walks in, Slade feels both an enormous wave of relief _and_ a spine-tingling sense of dread.

There's a brief, almost non-existent, flicker of... _something _that flashes in the kid’s eyes when Jack leaps to his feet to make his way over. But his stiff posture actually relaxes and the smile that curls his lips almost even reaches his eyes.

No wonder the others never noticed anything. Jason's acting could win a fucking Oscar. He smiles warmly at Jack and the only sign of discomfort when the taller, thinner man hugs him is a slight twitch of his fingers.

Jack slots himself between Jason and Damian, one arm around each boy’s shoulders, and one would miss it if they weren’t looking for it, like the others, Jason’s posture doesn’t tense, he doesn’t jerk away… but his eyes zero in on the hand Jack has on Damian’s shoulder.

What bothers Slade more than anything though, is how small and young Jason looks next to the man. Jack is nearly half a foot taller than Jason (he’s taller than Slade, even if it doesn’t feel that way when they stand next to each other) and even though Jason is a bit broader, a bit more muscular, Jack doesn’t look as thin and scrawny next to the boy as Slade expected.

To the contrary, perhaps it’s Slade’s imagination (though he’s never been accused of having one of those before), Jason shutting down seems to have made the kid physically shrink in on himself.

“Can’t believe I almost missed your big day, kiddo,” Jack croons down at Jason, smiling too wide. “You should have called when you didn’t get an RSVP.”

“It’s been kinda hectic,” Jason replies easily. Slade doesn’t think anyone else notices the slight tightness in his voice when he adds, “Sorry, Uncle Jack. I’m glad you could come on such short notice.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” His grin turns into a smirk and the hand he has on Jason’s shoulder moves to ruffle his hair. An inherently innocent, affectionate gesture; not something someone would think twice about. But Slade can’t help but read into the way the fingers linger to tug on the dark curls and scratch at Jason’s scalp. “I’ll always be there for you. You know that.”

Jason doesn’t cringe or gulp or stiffen. He just loops an arm around Jack’s waist, gives him a perfunctory squeeze, and then disentangles himself from the older man. But he does slip his own arm around Damian, dislodging Jack’s hold, and steering him to the sofa to sit wedged between Slade and Dick.

Dick, who is watching with a carefully neutral expression that Slade doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. His deep navy eyes sharp and critical as he tracks every interaction.

Good, Slade thinks, as Jason moves to sit on the armrest next to him. He puts his hand on Jason’s back, rubbing lightly over the ripples of muscles hidden beneath his t-shirt and has mixed feelings about the way the younger man relaxes into his touch.

“At least tell me I didn’t miss the bachelor party,” Jack says, resuming his seat in the large, cushy armchair at the head of the semi-circle of arranged furniture.

“Can’t miss something that isn’t happening,” Tim pouts.

Slade just barely manages to not scowl at the kid. He didn’t do anything wrong. Tim had wanted to throw Jason a bachelor party and even though he said it didn’t bother him that he wouldn’t get to, it clearly had. Slade can sympathize. A little. If he tries. But Jason also felt a little bad seeing that his decision bummed out his brother. And Slade doesn’t want any more weight on his partner’s shoulders.

Jack gasps dramatically and clutches his chest over his heart. “What?! You’re really not going to celebrate, Jay?”

Jason shifts his weight a little. “We’ve been living together for a few years now,” he says. “Neither of us really consider ourselves bachelors. And besides…”

He trails off, a tiny bit of color spreading across his cheeks, eyes dropping to the ground.

“Besides what?” Dick nudges gently.

Swallowing, Jason looks up to him. “I’m just not much of a party person, I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence as Dick searches Jason’s face for something. Bruce glances between them.

Then Jack’s shrill laugh slices through the silence.

“Oh kiddo,” he says, wiping at an imaginary tear before fixing his wide-eyed gaze on Jason’s eyes. “You can’t let your past experiences keep you from doing something you want to do.”

“It’s not—”

“Isn’t it?”

“Isn’t it what?” Damian demands, looking from Jason to Jack for clarification.

“It’s not that Jason doesn’t like parties,” the older man starts, eyes pulling away from Jason’s to Damian. “It’s just that he has… bad luck with them. Especially if they’re important. Your mother’s funeral, his prom, and so on.” The acid green stare turns back to Jason again, pinning him like a butterfly to a board. “Something always ruins little Jay’s night.”

The muscles under Slade’s palm go taught at the nickname as Jason subtly bristles.

“What happened at mother’s funeral?” Damian asks, focusing on his older brother with wide, concerned eyes.

“Nothing—”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Jay, it’s sweet, in its own way. He just didn’t think he had the right to mourn Talia like the rest of you, since he hadn’t known her as long. But he loved your mother very much and tried to hide in his room so he wouldn’t be a bother. I had to _coax_ him out.”

The way Jack licks his lips before the word ‘coax’ makes Slade’s skin crawl. Bruce, Dick, and Tim don’t seem surprised by Jack’s words though, so Slade can believe that it’s been discussed before and that there is a large amount of truth to it.

“Poor thing just had to be told it was ok to cry,” Jack adds with another insufferable smile that looks like it’s meant to be softer than the others.

“The bachelor party has nothing to do with—”

“I think it does, kiddo—”

“_If_,” Slade interjects loudly enough to be heard above the bickering and firm enough to grab everyone’s attention, “Jason doesn’t want to have a bachelor party, _no one_ is going to make him.”

“Of course not!” The other man says brightly. “I just want to make sure that it _is_ what Jason wants. I don’t want him to miss out on something important because he's afraid.”

Jack pauses and turns his attention to Slade. “Maybe it really isn’t about the past. Maybe he “doesn’t want” one because you don’t want one.”

Slade narrows his eyes and the tension in the room ratchets up. “Excuse me?”

“Maybe Little Jay thinks he doesn’t need a party because you’ve _tainted_ the idea for him. But that’s not very fair to him, is it? After all, you’ve been married before; got to do all that stuff already. Not to mention you’re… quite a bit older. Younger men need to socialize and have fun. They need excitement.”

It’s bullshit, of course. Not only does Slade not care if Jason wants to go out with his friends, but he would never manipulate his fiance like that. Or at least… he wouldn’t on purpose. But there is that small nagging sensation that part of the reason Jason puts up with him, is because of the damage Jack did to the younger man as a child. That maybe Jason is, on some subconscious level, afraid to do something he thinks Slade would disapprove of.

Regardless, that’s something for Slade to work out with Jason. It’s none of Jack’s business.

Slade opens his mouth to give the bastard a _real_ piece of his mind.

“I appreciate your concern, Uncle Jack,” Jason says calmly. “I’m really not interested in a big thing, but—” Jason glances at Tim who had definitely brightened at the possibility of getting to throw his older brother a party, “—maybe we can do something smaller. Just the family, maybe a few friends.”

“Really?” Tim says, moving to the edge of his seat. “Can I still plan it?”

Jason gives his little brother his first genuine smile since he walked through the door. “Sure. Just… nothing too crazy, ok?”

“Jason,” Bruce pipes up for the first time. “Just because _we_ want to celebrate, doesn’t mean you have to. This is your wedding. You shouldn’t do something you don’t want to do.”

“I know,” Jason says. But Slade catches the slight flicker of his eyes over to Jack. “It’s ok. Planning has been stressful. It’ll be nice to let loose a little.”

“I’ll keep it small, Jay,” Tim hurries to assure him. “I promise. Just us, Rose and Joey if they want, Roy and Arty if they’re around already. It’ll have to be tomorrow, though. Is that ok or too many?”

As Jason promises Tim that his plans sound fine, Alfred enters the room to tell everyone that dinner is ready.

They all rise and start to shuffle out. Jack looks at Slade over Jason’s head. That wide syrupy smile drops, those acid eyes go bright and sharp, and Jack gives Slade a smug, victorious twitch of the lips. It’s just a brief moment because the gangling prick is back to excitedly discussing business with Bruce. But in that split second, Slade is certain that all of his suspicions are right.

And Jack knows that he knows.

* * *

It was always going to be miserable.

The moment his dad said that Jack was on his way, Jason knew the days leading up to his wedding were going to be… tainted.

But he didn’t expect Jack to come out, guns blazing, and immediately bully him into a bachelor party.

Jason picks at his food, ignoring the foot Jack keeps rubbing up his calf from across the table.

He had tried to take the seat next to him, but Slade had all but growled at him.

Unfortunately, all that accomplished was Jack sitting right where Jason didn’t want him.

Next to Damian.

So Jason deals with the foot. Still, he can’t help but fantasize about what would happen if he lept up in outrage, called Jack out in front of everyone. A very small smile creeps up on him as he pictures Dick punching the creep, Bruce throwing him bodily from the house, and Tim tossing his bags out making sure they smack him in the head. All while Slade holds Jason close and laughs at Jack.

But close behind that fantasy is the nightmare. Jason calls out Jack and everyone tells him he’s overreacting to an innocent, accidental bump.

He glances at Jack’s hands, making sure they’re both above the table. Then over at Damian who doesn’t look like anything is bothering him. Not that that means anything. Jason quickly learned how to pretend everything was all right.

He’s probably being paranoid. Jack has never shown or mentioned any interest in Damian and the foot trying to slide up the inside of his thigh is indication enough that either Jason hasn’t aged out of Jack’s range or that it was never about that in the first place. Not that the insistence on a party, and the reminders of all the other times Jack has used that as an excuse to help Jason “loosen up”, wasn’t a big blaring signal.

Not for the first time, Jason shoves those thoughts down deep. The why doesn’t really matter.

Dinner passes slowly and, since there are so many of them, Jason is able to tune most of it out. Slade sits very close to him and keeps a big, strong hand on him the whole time; squeezing his knee, holding his hand, wrapping an arm around him.

Since he spends most of the meal and the long conversation after zoned out, Jason doesn’t know if anyone else noticed that Slade was being especially clingy. But, as much as Jason is dreading the conversation when they’re alone in their room and Slade won’t let him hide anymore, he appreciates the silent show of support.

Until they all finally pile out of the dinning room and Slade announces that they’re going to head to bed early.

“No!” Jason says, too loudly and way too desperately. Everyone stops and looks at him. Jack’s thin brows raised, watching Jason closely over Damian’s head.

Jason doesn’t know if it’s on purpose or just the natural flow of the group moving around but he doesn’t like how close Jack keeps getting to the 15 year old.

“Jason...” Slade mutters, and Jason wants to get away, go hide in his room with the door locked, Slade between him and the entry point, the man’s solid, seemingly invincible bulk wrapped protectively around him. He wants so badly to curl up and pretend nothing is wrong.

He wants, so very desperately, for there to be nothing wrong.

“I’m not ready,” he says instead, refusing to look at Slade, attention catching on Dick’s narrowed eyes. “For bed. It’s still early.”

Then he turns to lead the way back into the den.

He is starting to unravel. He can feel it.

It’s Slade’s fault. Jason managed this act for years before Slade started slowly bringing him out of his shell. Now, with Slade obviously aware of _something _even if he may not be certain what, Jason feels it all slipping away. If he doesn’t pull his shit together, someone other than Slade is going to ask him if he’s alright.

And he isn’t confident that he’ll be able to convince them that he is.

Sitting around chatting for the next couple of hours is excruciating but Jason refuses to go upstairs before Jack and Jack is being a bitch, smirking at him every time someone checks the time before launching into a new topic or tale.

Finally, after Tim almost falls out of his chair, Bruce declares bedtime.

Jason makes sure he’s at Damian’s side as they make their way to the family wing and subtly escorts him to his room. It’s on the way to Jason’s anyway, so no one notices.

Other than Slade that is.

He can feel his fiance’s eye on him as Jason drops a hand to Damian’s shoulder and waits for the older man to pass.

“Lock the door for me, habibi?” Jason asks quietly.

Damian squints up at him and Jason is stuck by how that distance has shrunk when he wasn’t paying attention. One more growth spurt and Damian will be taller than all of them.

“Why?”

Jason smiles. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Damian’s eyes narrow further and he looks Jason up and down like he’s searching for an injury.

But he nods.

When he hears the bolt turn, Jason faces his own room and sighs.

There is no way to avoid the conversation that’s about to happen.

But he’s sure as hell going to try.

* * *

Slade comes out of the en-suite in the custom cotton pajama bottoms Jason got him for his birthday, featuring the prominent bat of the Wayne family crest printed in an obnoxious repeating pattern.

Jason’s attempt to wriggle out of a conversation is expected. But his chosen method is not.

It almost works. Might have if Slade’s own concerns were any different.

As it is, he grunts when his very naked fiancé flings himself into his arms. Jason presses their lips together earnestly, hands sliding around Slade’s waist and under the band of his pajamas.

He can feel tension leach out of Jason’s muscles when he reciprocates, wrapping the younger man in his arms and holding him close, meeting each desperate kiss with his own, hoping to communicate his unconditional, unwavering love and support.

Cupping his hands to either side of Jason’s face and breaking away is the most difficult thing he’s done in a very long time. Especially when the kid lets out a small, pleading whine.

“We need to talk,” Slade says, voice gentler than he thinks it has ever been before.

“I’d really rather not,” Jason grumbles, taking the robe Slade hands him and tying it off with quick, jerky movements. He carefully keeps his body turned away from Slade to hide his face.

Slade knows him too well at this point for it to make much of a difference.

With a deep breath, Slade begins the only way he knows how.

“Look, we both know I’m still not any good at this stuff,” he says plainly. He’d like to reach for Jason but given the nature of the conversation they’re about to have, he’s hesitant to touch him. He makes a mental note to slowly cut off each of Jack’s fingers if he gets the chance. “I’m not great at knowing when you need space and when I need to insist. So I’m sorry if this really is one of the former but… but it _feels_ like the latter.”

Unable to help it, he rests a hand on Jason’s shoulder. Little, invisible tremors make the kid feel like he’s vibrating with the effort of holding himself together.

“You don't have to be afraid, Jason. I’ll believe you.” He thinks about the critical way Dick watched Jason’s interactions with Jack, after Slade voiced only the barest hint of a problem. “And I wholly believe your family will too.”

Jason is quiet for a very long time. Slade waits, patiently letting the kid sort through his thoughts and feelings for as long as he needs.

When he does speak, it’s quiet, and meeker than anything Slade’s ever heard from him before.

“What if they don’t?” He asks, still refusing to turn back around. But the next words come out in a rush, like he’s afraid he’ll lose his nerve to say them. “What if they don’t and you do? What if they don’t and never speak to me again, and you do and you go to prison? Then I’ll… then I’ll… I’ll be alone again. I’ve had no family before. It… it sucked.

Instead of pulling Jason toward him, Slade steps around to stand in front of him. When Jason tries to stare at his toes, Slade gently tilts his chin back up.

Those bright, blue-green eyes are glassy with barely contained tears, but they meet Slade’s one grey one all the same.

“First of all, I know you aren’t aware of much of my time with the military, but I think you’re smart enough to have figured out that there’s more than one skeleton in my closet. If I killed him, they wouldn’t even be able to find the body, let alone evidence, and certainly none that would implicate me beyond a reasonable doubt.”

Jason grimaces but his muscles relax under the hand Slade still has on his shoulder.

“So I’m not going anywhere. And I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it.”

The kid shifts and tries to look away. Slade doesn’t know if he should let him or not but just because he’s getting better at this stuff, doesn’t mean he’s _good_ at it. And he’s still himself at the end of the day. So he doesn’t let go. Waits until Jason looks back up at him.

“Your family loves you. The last time you were afraid to tell them something they surprised you. As sanctimonious and obnoxious as they can be, they’re good people. And they’ve always supported you. They won’t let you down on this one, Jason. On the very narrow chance that they do… well, you’re better off without people who think you’d make that up.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” Jason mutters.

He looks and feels so small and insecure right now that Slade wants to stop. Wants to scoop him up and hold him close, cuddled up on the bed, like the world outside this room doesn’t exist. Wants to let Jason find his way back to that place where he could convince himself the horrible things in his past had never happened.

But Slade loves him too much to allow that. He wants Jason to be able to move on. He doesn’t want this hovering over their future. He doesn’t want Jason to have to worry about seeing Jack ever again, let alone for all the big moments; holidays, his brothers’ weddings, his own…

Slade wants Jason to have some closure; wants to give him some peace of mind.

Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe what he wants doesn’t and shouldn’t matter as much as what Jason wants. Bruce has a way of doing terrible things for good reasons and it works out for him more often than not (certainly more often than it should). While Slade had never been overly concerned with his own motivations before Jason, he’d always seen a lot of himself in Bruce Wayne.

The small bud of hope that blossoms in Slade’s chest at the thought that Jason might have chosen him for the qualities that remind him of the father he admires and not the monster who abused him is a foreign but not unwelcome feeling.

“I have my suspicions,” he responds. “Based on how well I know you, the little information I’ve been given, and observation. But you know I prefer facts to guessing.”

Jason chews on his tongue for another long moment. So long that Slade feels his own resolve crumble.

He’s beefing cruel, forcing Jason to do something he obviously doesn’t want to do. Just like Jack.

“I’m sorry,” he says, dropping his hands from where he’d been touching Jason, and stepping away. Jason just blinks at him like he’s acting strangely. “I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. That’s not… I don’t ever want you to feel like you… you don’t have to anything you don’t want to do. Ever.”

The wetness that has been clinging to the kid’s lower lids finally succumbs to gravity. But Jason keeps his focus on Slade’s face.

“I just want you to know that you can talk to me. You don’t have to carry this by yourself. You’re not alone.”

More tears fall. Jason swipes at them roughly and sniffles a little. His mouth opens and closes, like he wants to speak but doesn’t know how to start.

“I want to tell you,” he whispers eventually, “but I can’t… I don’t… I don’t know how to…”

Slade waits for an agonizingly long minute, until he’s certain Jason isn’t going to try again.

“I can say it,” he offers. “I’ll ask. You can answer if you want or, if that’s too hard, all you’d have to do is nod or shake your head.”

Jason chews on his cheek for a moment.

Then he nods.

Slade swallows hard, trying to work some moisture back into his suddenly dry throat and mouth.

“When you were a kid…” He has to pause and take his own steadying breath as reality sets in. Suddenly, even though this is one of the most important things he’s ever done… for once he feels his nerve faltering. When Jason answers, there’s no going back. There’s no more pretending. No more acting. Things will have to change. He thinks about his own son, his daughter… he was never very close to them when they were young. But if he had ever found out—if he _ever_ _finds _out—that some creep touched his kids, the bastard would never be seen again.

Liquid steel fills his veins and rage surges at the thought of someone hurting his boy. The final words come out in a snarl, “When you were a kid, did Jack ever… did he ever put his hands on you?”

Jason is taking short inhales and pushing the breath out hard and for one terrifying moment, his face goes perfectly blank.

But his eyes meet Slade’s and he seems to find strength in the anger and resolve he finds carved into the lines of the older man’s face.

He nods again.

Slade doesn’t even decide to move. One moment he’s watching Jason brace for confession, and the next he’s holding the kid in his arms, one wet cheek nuzzling into Slade’s bare chest.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Slade hums, nosing at the soft, dark curls atop Jason’s head. “We’ll take care of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think of anything that needs to be tagged and isn't, please let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the end notes for a spoilery warning. This is still tonally the same as everything else this fic. There is nothing explicit. But it is tense and uncomfortable. If you're concerned, see the end note. 
> 
> Also, you may have noticed I added another chapter to the total. This one took more fleshing out than I expected so I had to split it. The 6th and final chapter of this fic will be more epilogue-esque.

Jason wakes with Slade’s arms wound tightly around him. No nightmares leaving a lingering, uncomfortable buzz under his skin.

At some point in the night, Slade had maneuvered them so that his own broad back faced the door, placing his substantial bulk between Jason and the only entrance to the room.

Warmth radiates out from Jason’s chest, suspiciously close to his heart. There isn’t much from Slade’s past that he’s seen fit to share, but Jason knows his military and subsequent mercenary days have made sleeping with his body facing the most likely point of entry second nature. But that would have put Jason in the line of fire and knowing that Slade actively went against his nature for Jason’s comfort fills him with a kind of affection that threatens to overwhelm him.

He lies there for a while, letting the steady rise and fall of his fiancé’s chest ground him in the wake of a slowly building panic at what the day ahead of them holds.

In the clarifying, bright light of day, coming clean to his family once again sounds like a terrible idea.

A couple days of putting up with Jack until the older man disappears out of their lives like a particularly gruesome ghost would be so much easier. In part, because he’s been doing it for so long now.

If Jason is honest with himself, even more than the concern that his family won’t believe him, is the fear from just speaking the words. The humiliation he’ll feel every time he meets their eyes and knows that they know.

How does one even phrase it? What words can even come close to capturing it? Over the years, Jason has played that conversation in his mind over and over again. He’s never found a balance of _here-is-what-happened_ and _yes-it-was-terrible_ that didn’t sound like it was no big deal or, even worse, fishing for sympathy.

But more importantly… how does Jason live with the pity written plainly in their gazes; flooding off them, thick as Gotham smog and just as unbearable?

With a deep sigh, Jason turns in the strong embrace to curl closer into Slade’s chest. He listens to the steady thud of Slade’s heartbeat against his ear and focuses on the older man’s slow, sleepy breaths, inhaling and exhaling with him.

Soon, the panic slips away, leaving behind a dull anxiety. Not perfect, but manageable.

Slade’s arms tighten around him. He nuzzles his nose into Jason’s curls and breathes deeply.

“Mmm,” Slade mumbles sleepily. “Smell good.”

They lie like that for a bit, curled together, comfortable in each other’s space in a way Jason would not have thought possible early on and now takes for granted. Eventually, one of Slade’s hands starts to gently rub up and down along Jason’s spine.

Warmth spreads from the light brush of the older man’s calloused fingers. The motion and heat is soothing.

Jason is almost back to sleep when Slade makes an uncharacteristically uncertain noise in the back of his throat and Jason feels the other man’s larger body go incrementally stiffer with tension.

He braces for what his fiance is about to say.

“Maybe we should postpone the wedding,” Slade says, voice stilted, like he has to force each word off a disobedient tongue.

However, when Jason jerks away in surprise, Slade lets him go easily.

“What? Why?”

It’s so out of the blue, so abrupt. There was no indication that Slade was… getting cold feet? Their conversation last night… Jason is pretty sure the man hasn’t changed his mind about them, about being together, their commitment. So what is this? Where is it coming from?

It doesn’t make sense.

“Do you… do you not want to get married?” Jason asks, steeling himself for the possible affirmation. “I’ve told you before, I don’t need a piece of paper to validate our relationship and commitment to each other...”

Although, at this precise moment he could use _some _kind of reassurance.

“Of course not,” Slade blurts quickly and for the split second before he continues, Jason curses himself for not asking the question in a way that would have provoked a clearer response.

“I mean, of course I want to marry you,” Slade hastens to amend. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

A weight lifts off Jason’s chest as suddenly as it set there moments ago. He knows better than anyone that no one makes Slade do anything. He does only what he wants.

“Then why—”

“It’s just… with everything—with the revelations of the last 24 hours… maybe it would be prudent to put it off a bit.”

Jason blinks at him for a moment. Then scowls.

“I’m not letting _Jack_ ruin my fucking wedding,” Jason growls, spitting Jack’s name like a curse.

Briefly, so fast it probably doesn’t even count, Slade’s lip quirks in the world’s smallest, saddest looking smile before he sighs and his face falls back into a more thoughtful frown. He sits up, leaning back against the headboard. Jason follows him up, looking at him, watching all the small micro-expressions he’s become intimately familiar with over the years flit over Slade’s face.

Jason narrows his eyes. “You _are_ having second thoughts. Why? What’s changed since last night?”

Slade arches an eyebrow. “Everything’s changed since last night, Jason.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Jason snaps, moving to get off the bed and find his clothes. Suddenly, he needs some air. “If you don’t—”

A big hand gently grabs his wrist, halting his movement. When Jason meets Slade’s eye, there’s something horribly soft and pained looking back at him.

He doesn’t like it. It isn’t right on Slade’s face.

“Just let me… It’s not… You’re…” Slade’s expression twists in frustration and anger. Which is better. Jason knows how to deal with that. “Fuck. I’m not good at this shit. I’m just going to say it.”

But then he doesn’t. Jason waits patiently for whole minutes for Slade to figure out how to phrase what he needs to say. After the fifth, his patience evaporates.

“Just fucking spit it out,” he growls.

Slade takes a deep breath and resolve settles across his brow. “Fine.”

That big hand leaves Jason’s wrist to drag through the older man’s white hair.

“I’m concerned that your past… _experience_ with Jack may have influenced our relationship in unhealthy ways. I’m old enough to be your grandfather. The first time we fucked was after Roman sexually assaulted you. I’ve always been emotionally distant and you’ve always been endlessly patient. You’re always the one to give and I’ve always taken without a second thought. I can’t…”

He trails off and that pained look is back.

“I can’t stand the idea that you’re with me because I’m familiar. Because it’s what you know. What _he_ made you think you want or need or what-the-fuck-ever. I can’t help but think that the reason you slept with me at all was just because I didn’t _make _you. Because you were _grateful_—”

“Slade that’s—” Jason tries to interrupt this horrifying monologue; wants nothing more than to make it stop. He doesn’t want to hear this. He wants to put Slade’s mind at ease. But his voice cracks and all he can do is stare at Slade, eyes wide and listen to the miserable things coming out of the older man’s mouth.

“—The mere possibility that you might have felt like you _owed_ me something makes me sick. I shouldn’t have come in that night. I knew it then and I did it anyway. That’s the kind of man I am. And you deserve someone _much _better—”

“Stop!” Jason practically shouts. It would have probably been louder if Slade’s word vomit didn’t make Jason’s throat go dry. He doesn’t think he’s heard Slade say this much in an entire day, let alone a single sitting.

He almost wishes he hadn’t asked. He’s shaking and he doesn’t want to fucking cry but he can feel the pressure welling up inside him and it’s going to need somewhere to go.

Slade’s gaze is heavy on him, crushing and inescapable. He swallows a few times, trying to work moisture back into his throat before attempting to speak.

This is the most terrified he’s been since…

Since before they got together.

How does he assuage Slade’s fears? How does he say that none of that stuff matters because… because even if it’s all true, doesn’t Jason deserve the safety he feels with Slade? Even if it’s all true, doesn’t he deserve the respect of being allowed to make that decision for himself?

Maybe it’s unfair. To expect Slade to be ok with all his baggage. Maybe it’s unfair to say he doesn’t care how it started or what in his past may or may not have influenced their relationship. Maybe it’s selfish to insist it doesn’t matter how they got here, it only matters that they did.

Maybe.

But Jason _knows_ that they love each other. He _knows_ that Slade would move heaven and earth for him. He _knows_ that Slade doesn’t have anything meaningful in common with Jack.

Isn’t it more unfair to ask Jason to give up a relationship built on mutual respect and love? After everything else that’s been taken from him, isn’t it cruel to take this too? This thing that he _wants _with all his heart and soul?

How does he say all that in a way that won’t have Slade comparing himself to Jack even further?

Staring at the man he’s supposed to marry in three days, Jason’s mind whirls.

Why is this happening to him?

With a deep breath, Jason scooches back onto the bed, moving just into Slade’s space. That cool gray eye tracks him the whole way.

“I _deserve_ to make up my own mind about what I want,” Jason says softly, carefully meeting Slade’s gaze and holding it. “If you don’t want to be with me because you don’t like me or fall out of love, that’s one thing. But if you call off this wedding because you think I’m not capable of making healthy decisions about my sex life… it just becomes another thing I’ve lost to that bastard. One more thing he’s taken from me. The past and the present may not be mutually exclusive, but the past should never be able to take some important, something _good,_ from the present, just because bad things happened there.”

Silence falls between them again. Jason watches Slade think things through, little ticks in the muscles of his face going from wanting to argue, to considering Jason’s words, to uneasy acceptance.

Which is fine. Jason can work with that.

“Ok,” Slade finally says. “You’re right. And I do respect your decisions. But I don’t want that fucker at our wedding. I know it’s going to be hard for you, and uncomfortable, but we need to tell your family.”

Nodding, Jason reaches out and wraps his arms around his fiance.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Slade mutters into Jason’s hair, hugging him close.

Jason clings tighter.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Jason’s reassurances go a long way to help soothe Slade’s misgivings. The kid made a good point and the fact of the matter is…

Slade’s crazy about him.

Still though, a foreboding discomfort sits low and heavy in his stomach.

Suddenly, Slade feels a much grander sense of responsibility. He knows that he should have never asked Jason to marry him if he wasn’t ready to give this relationship his all. And he felt ready then. Still does really it’s just… the stakes of going all in seem to have risen exponentially.

The worst part is, Slade is positive that if he told all this to Jason, the boy would understand.

For some reason, it kind of makes Slade hate himself.

He doesn’t really know why Jason wants him. But he knows why he loves Jason. Slade made the kid a promise and he’d rather die than break it. So he’ll fight for this with everything he has.

The whole long trek down the stairs and across the vast corridors of Wayne Manor to the informal dining room, Slade reminds himself that this doesn’t change anything. Jason is still the same man he was yesterday, Slade just knows him a little better.

Though the few years he’s gotten familiar with Jason is nothing compared to the kid’s family, who’ve known him for over a decade. And Jason still shared his most private secrets. Even if it did take some digging from Slade.

The fact that he knew the kid well enough to notice… well, Slade’s never been much for the idea of warmed hearts but it certainly doesn’t make him feel _bad_.

Slade squeezes Jason’s hand in reassurance as they turn into the dining room.

But Jack is nowhere to be found. And Bruce isn’t present either.

Dick looks up at the sound of their steps, pausing mid-scoop above the serving dish full of scrambled eggs.

“Good morning,” he says, brightly if not quite his usual chipperness, as his eyes fall on his younger brother. “Everything all right?”

“Of course,” Jason answers, clipped and way too quickly, before moving toward the table and grabbing an empty plate.

Dick freezes, glancing to Slade briefly before returning to Jason. Not the usual accusatory, assessing gaze this time, more… conspiratorial. Like he’s trying to gauge Jason’s sincerity and checking with Slade for insight.

Even Tim looks up from his phone, untouched plate in front of him, to find the source of Jason’s frustration. And Damian is looking at them with calculated interest, the same unnervingly _knowing_ green eyes his mother used to pin Slade in his place on more than one occasion.

“Where’s dad?” Jason asks, throwing bacon, eggs, toast, and fruit onto his plate before plopping into a chair to pick at his food. The kid is trying to sound nonchalant but opening up to Slade last night must have made the act harder to maintain. He’s nowhere near as convincing as he was yesterday.

Slade follows his lead. As much as he would just like to fucking tell these people the truth, Bruce definitely needs to be there too.

“He and Uncle Jack left early,” Tim says, eying Jason now. It’s not as suspicious as the other two, but it’s still clearly articulating that Jason is acting strange. “A little business before lunch, get a tux for the wedding after. They said they’d meet us at the club.”

Scowling, Slade drops into his own chair a little heavier than necessary. Of course they did. Slade doesn’t doubt that Jack has thought of a way to keep Bruce busy all the way to the wedding.

Between them, Slade and Jason don’t eat much of their food. They both sit there, moving bits around their plates, only taking a bite when the others give them one of those concerned looks.

Or rather, when they give Jason one of those concerned looks.

When they’ve played out the charade as long as possible, Jason stands.

“I’m gonna go get dressed,” the kid says, pecking a kiss to the top of Slade’s head before going back upstairs.

Damian not so subtly follows seconds later.

No sooner have his footsteps faded down the hall than Dick pipes up again.

“What’s going on?”

Slade flicks his gaze to Tim who has finally put his phone down and started shoveling cold food into his mouth even as he clearly listens in.

“Nothin’.”

The younger man’s eyes narrow. “Yeah right.”

“If you needed to know, you would.” Slade shrugs.

Dick watches him for a moment. Slade just sips his coffee and pretends to ignore him.

“Does it have anything to do with what you were talking about yesterday?”

Very carefully, Slade sets his mug on the table and tries to choose his words. This is not the time or place. Wayne needs to be there.

“We didn’t talk about anything yesterday that should bother anyone.”

The complicated way Dick’s face twists into an unamused scowl is so funny Slade would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious.

“You know what I’m talking about,” the kid snaps.

“I really do not,” Slade says back evenly. And it’s mostly true. They’ve skipped a step. They didn’t really say anything yesterday that should bother Slade or Jason. And Dick hasn’t voiced any concerns that may have risen in the wake of that conversation.

Tim is watching them closely now. “I have no idea what you’re talking about either,” he says. “Care to share with the class?”

“No.”

“Slade told me Jason had never even mentioned Uncle Jack before,” Dick says at the same time.

Tim’s brows pull together and he frowns. “Uh, that’s weird. They’re really close and you two have been together forever now.”

“Guess they’re not as close as we thought,” Dick says pointedly, not breaking the stare down he’s started with Slade.

Tim shakes his head, dark hair flopping side to side. “No way. He talked to Jack on the phone for like, two hours after his graduation, remember? That was just last year…”

_That_ makes Slade snort. Loudly.

Both sets of bright blue eyes, the same color as Jason’s, fix him in their sights.

“You boys are cute,” Slade says, knowing this will turn the conversation down a safer path. “Jason definitely wasn’t talking to anyone for those two hours.” He picks up his coffee and grins at them over the lip. “Well. God, maybe. But not full or even coherent sentences.”

It takes them a moment.

“Ew,” Tim starts, the same moment Dick’s nose scrunches in disgust. “Dude, what the shit? We don’t want to hear that.”

“Fucking hell, Slade,” Dick snaps again, rising to clear his dishes. “Keep your carnal activities with our brother to yourself.”

The look Dick tosses him as he leaves the dining room makes it clear that the conversation is tabled, not forgotten.

Slade leaves to find Jason immediately after.

And if he’s hiding from Dick’s and Tim’s inquisitive gazes, no one else needs to know.

Damian is just leaving Jason’s bedroom when Slade arrives. The kid gives him a calculating look and shuffles his feet, not moving out of the way.

“You need something, kid?”

The teens lips press into a straight line and it looks like he’s chewing on his tongue.

“Is he ok?” Damian asks finally, not meeting Slade’s eye. “I can tell something is bothering him but he just keeps telling me I don’t need to worry about it. Which, of course, just makes me worry more.”

It all comes out in a rush, like Damian would rather not have to ask Slade but sees no other option and is ripping off the bandaid.

For a moment, Slade considers his options. He’s obviously not telling the baby Wayne the details, especially when he wouldn’t tell the other two. But it hadn’t escaped Slade’s notice the way Jason kept slotting himself between Damian and Jack, the fact that Jason had told the youngest to lock his door last night.

All these kids are too smart for their own good, Slade decides. There’s no way Damian didn’t also notice these details.

With a sigh, Slade turns to lean back against the wall.

“He will be,” he says honestly, sighing again when the kid’s eyes get wider. “Listen, kid. You’ll find out eventually, it’s just… delicate. Your brother is just trying to figure some stuff out. As long as you’re all there for him when he needs you, he’ll be absolutely fine.”

Those clever green eyes examine every inch of Slade’s face.

“It has something to do with Uncle Jack, doesn’t it?” He says after a moment.

And the way his face twists… Slade figures once everything comes out, he’ll have to get to Jack before this fifteen year old slices the skinny bastard into sashimi.

“He was really weird about Jack last night…”

“Right now, the best thing you can do to help your brother, is respect his decision to keep whatever it is to himself until he’s ready.”

Damian scowls but steps away from the door.

Slade moves to enter but the brat is lingering in the hall.

“What?” Slade says, maybe a little snappish even though he doesn’t mean to be.

The kid takes it in stride, just looking Slade up and down like he’s really seeing him for the first time.

“You’ll protect him.”

It’s not a request, but it’s not an order either.

Just a statement. Like it just occurred to Damian.

“Always,” Slade says.

Damian gives him an approving nod before leaving.

Slade can’t help the fondness in the way he rolls his eyes.

Jason is just finishing up getting ready when he finally makes his way into their room. Slade takes a fast shower and dresses.

Then spends the rest of the day trying to take Jason’s mind off things, give him a little peace before the night makes things difficult again.

He thinks it works. The kid seems to visibly unclench. They get a work out in, endorphins doing wonders to lift both their spirits. Slade takes him home. Their home. Their apartment. Just to keep from going back to the manor and Jack and whatever dark memories held in those halls.

But eventually, the time comes. They change into something appropriate for the evening's activities.

Slade can tell Jason is torn between laughing at the tight fit of Slade’s black slacks, black t-shirt two sizes too small and pulling obscenely across his chest, and wanting to rip it all off of him.

Slade’s counting that as a win.

By the time he and Jason arrive, Dick, Tim, Stephanie, Cass and Damian are already there. Damian _technically _isn’t really allowed inside but being a Wayne has its benefits. Selina insisted that Damian wear a neon pink, glow-in-the-dark wristband, loudly announcing he isn’t allowed alcohol, but the kid turns his nose up at the idea of drinking anyway so it is an easy concession.

The others trickle in behind them, over the next fifteen minutes or so. It is an amusing, if kind of sad assortment of people.

Amusing in that the range of characters present is sure to keep things interesting.

Sad because most of Jason’s friends seem to be Dick’s friends. Sure there’s Rose and there are a couple of people Jason had met in college. Artemis and a giant hulk of a man Slade has only ever heard referred to as “Biz,” which he’s sure is a nickname.

But everyone else?

Most of them have been friends with Dick for years and years. Barbara is a close friend of the entire family and Kory’s been dating Dick on and off (though mostly on, especially for the last few years) since they hit adulthood, so Jason grew up close to them too.

There’s a dark haired man and woman chatting to each other and Slade knows he should know them but he can’t remember their names. But what he does recall is that they were in Dick’s MBA program with him.

Roy Harper is one of Dick’s oldest friends since they were both in diapers.

Slade scowls his direction.

Harper is a year or two older than Dick. _And_ he’s Jason’s one ex.

Well… Slade tosses a glance to his own son, Joey, who had, with Dick’s help, dragged Jason onto the dance floor… the one relationship Jason had publicly, anyway.

The talk with Jason this morning helped Slade put his own fears in perspective. But it didn’t make them go away entirely.

Fact is, Jason’s seemingly singular interest in barely age appropriate partners, still makes Slade feel… a little gross. Like he’s taking advantage.

Everyone Jason’s ever been with is a chunk of years older than him. Not quite the chunk Slade is, but still.

He watches as Jason and Dick sneak up behind Harper and literally drag him out to dance, all four boys on the floor laughing and shouting the lyrics to the too loud music at the top of their lungs.

A new thought strikes Slade like lightning.

Maybe… maybe Jason was just protecting himself. Maybe it wasn’t even conscious.

As far as Slade knows, the kid had never dated anyone before Dick put a violent end to a friendship when one of his college buddies tried to seduce a very much too young Tim.

Perhaps Jason, consciously or subconsciously, considered the people Dick surrounded himself with after… safe. If Dick was still friends with them, they must be good people.

It isn’t perfect. There are flaws in that kind of thinking. But watching Jason dance with his brother and his two exes, seeing the tension of the last two days wash away, replaced with the carefree happiness of youth that he deserves… Slade can’t find it in himself to think of it as a bad thing.

He’s so caught up in watching Jason have fun, he almost doesn’t notice when Bruce and Jack finally show.

Almost.

* * *

After the relative quiet of the day, the frantic energy of the club with it’s loud music and flashing lights and neon is a little jarring at first.

This isn’t really Jason’s scene. He likes to go out with his brothers and friends occasionally, get some air and a change of pace. He likes the dim atmosphere and piles of people having fun. He likes the stupid drinks and he even likes dancing. A little.

But he and Slade had gone to the gym for a couple hours of boxing, followed by a long lunch and even longer lounge on the couch in their apartment before getting ready to meet everyone at Selina’s nightclub. And that had been the perfect balm for his dark mood.

Slade always seems to know how to get Jason out of his head, how to make him relax, when he needs it most.

The party isn’t so bad though. He has to hand it to his little brother, Jason is actually having a blast.

Once Dick and Joey managed to drag him out to the floor amid the mass of writhing bodies, that is. After a single song, it felt like he just disappeared in the wave of people jumping and bouncing with each pulse of the loud bass. And before he knew it, Jason’s worries slipped away in favor of screaming along with indiscernible song lyrics and helping Dick wrestle Roy out to join them.

He completely forgot about Jack.

Forgot he was supposed to come, never noticed when he finally showed.

Jason doesn’t know the man is at the club until he goes to take a leak.

He just barely gets his zipper down when the door opens again.

Reacting to the sound, Jason glances up and immediately feels like a weight crashes down on his shoulders. The happy flush from dancing and hanging out with the people he loves vanishes.

It’s not a conscious thought, his body just moves on its own. He turns away from the older man and darts into one of the stalls.

Jason isn’t fast enough, he’s a cocktail and six jello shots deep and he never built up the tolerance for it that Dick and Joey have. The door catches something solid before he can get it closed and Jason’s throat goes dry at the sight of those pale, slim fingers wrapped around the edge. Something clenches in his chest that makes it hard to breath.

“Privacy,” Jack says, as he slinks into the stall, closing and locking the door behind him. “Good call, kiddo.”

Jason tries to glare at the man. Tries to summon a rejection or some kind of retort. Hell, he’d be happy for just a single word to come out of his mouth. Anything.

Whether it’s the alcohol or the past, Jason just feels _trapped_. He feels small and helpless, even though he knows he’s not. Jack may still tower nearly half a foot over Jason, but Jason is bigger, stronger. And yet, standing there, trying not to meet the older man’s eyes, Jason feels like he’s thirteen and powerless again.

Christ, how could he have been so stupid. He let his guard down, he let himself think that maybe things would be ok. That maybe he’d have one happy memory of a special occasion that wasn’t immediately tainted by Uncle Jack.

Deep down, no matter how old he gets, Jason is still just that same dumb, naive kid who was dumped on his dad’s doorstep.

Even when he’s surrounded by people who care about him, he’s still easy prey.

Jack steps forward and when Jason tries to step back, he hits the metal wall, cramped space forcing them too close.

_Too close, too close, too close._

He can smell the all too familiar sickly sweet scent of Jack’s breath, feels it ghost hot across his face.

_Too close!_

“Look at you, kiddo,” Jack purrs, one hand sliding up Jason’s thigh to toy with the still opened button of his fly while the other drags reverently over the curves of muscle on Jason’s arm. “You grew up so well.”

Jason can’t move. He’s trying but he feels frozen, a deer caught in the headlights, while Jack pets at him like they’re secret lovers.

Jason has a secret lover. Or had. Now they’re not a secret. They’re getting married. This can’t happen.

He’s pretty sure Slade wouldn’t leave him for this, that the older man would be more pissed at Jack than Jason. But there’s a wicked voice in the back of Jason’s head, whispering cruel words that sound like truth. That Jason is an adult now and he should be able to stop this. That the only reason it would happen now is if he wanted it to.

It’s wrong. He knows it’s wrong. It’s not the truth, it’s just fear twisting old insecurities adapting them to the present situation. He knows that.

_He knows it. He knows it. He knows it._

But it’s hard to remember when the little voice won’t shut up.

Jack’s hand starts to tug at the waistband of Jason’s boxer briefs.

Again, it’s not conscious. But finally, Jason moves.

He snatches Jack's wrist and pushes it away from him without releasing his grip.

“Don’t.” It’s cracked and weak but at least he _said_ it.

Jack laughs at him. That high, shrill thing that echoes off the tiles of the bathroom to sound downright maniacal. It makes Jason cringe and instinctively shrink away.

“Oh, little J,” Jack says as he nudges closer, not trying to break Jason’s grip even though the other hand comes up to tuck a stray strand of hair back off Jason’s face. Jason tilts his head away but there’s nowhere to go. His body is still shell shocked. “You haven’t played hard to get in a long time. I do miss that, but tonight’s not the night. Public place and all.”

Distantly Jason wonders how they’re alone in the bathroom of a club. How has no one else come in?

Maybe Jack is just being quieter than Jason thinks. Maybe the way each word booms loud enough to rattle his teeth is just in his head.

_No one is going to save him._

And he’s too pathetic to save himself.

“Leave me alone, Jack,” Jason manages. It’s still too quiet but at least his voice doesn’t break on the words.

“Don’t be like that, little J. You’re getting married. We need to celebrate the occasion. Like we always do. For old time’s sake.”

It’s an effort to not vomit at those words, at the sickening glee in the too broad smile and the bright, acid green eyes, wide and fixed on him like he’s a particularly amusing joke.

“You can’t make me do anything now. I’m not a kid anymore—”

“Oh, please” Jack rolls his eyes. “Don’t start with that again. I know you like to think I forced you, but you and I both know that’s nonsense. You wanted it, kiddo, you just needed me to _show_ you you wanted it.”

Jason says nothing. He remembers begging Jack to stop. But he also remembers the way his body felt when Jack touched him a certain way. The way Jack made sure he felt good too.

He used to think it made him special. Jack _told_ over and over again how special he was.

The distance since Jack left has made that seem less true. But now…

Now it’s murky again.

Jack lets out a great, exasperated sigh. “Ok, little J. I can see you’re not in the mood.”

Jason squints at him in confusion. It’s not like him to back off so easily.

“If you don’t want to play anymore, I can find someone else. Maybe you _are _too old now, anyway. Damian does look a lot like you used to—”

The rest of that sentence never comes. Red fills the room and just like that, Jason can move again.

He throws Jack off him with all the anger he’s kept pent up all these years. He has every intention of beating the man into a bloody smear.

But he never gets the chance.

The door to stall is smashed open, the lock ripping out of the metal pillar, and slams into Jack’s back.

Before Jason can even blink, Jack is yanked out. The thuds and thumps of a scuffle reach Jason’s ears as he steps toward the gapping exit, stopping in a moment of clarity, to refasten his jeans.

When he finally emerges, it’s to the loud smack of a powerful fist to a skinny face.

Jason just catches sight of Jack falling through the bathroom door, a murderous flash of black following him out into the club.

For a moment, Jason just stands there. Just a heartbeat. Trying to decide if he wants to follow. If he wants the attention that is sure to be waiting for him on the other side.

Ultimately, there’s not really a choice.

The door hasn’t even stopped swinging when he finally pushes through it.

What he finds on the other side is not what Jason was expecting. But something warm spreads through his chest, chipping away at the wall of fear and doubt he’d built up for over a decade.

The music is still pounding through the club but all eyes are on the skinny, middle aged man sprawled out on the floor, blood trickling from his lip.

And a furious Dick Grayson-Wayne, fists clenched tight, body shaking in rage, looming over him, looking about two second away from killing someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Jack accosting Jason in the club bathroom. Nothing explicit happens but Jack _is trying to coerce Jason into sex and their conversation _is fucked up. Jason's thought process in this scene is also extremely uncomfortable.__
> 
> _ _Anyway..._ _
> 
> _ _Comments and kudos are loved and appreciated ❤  
[My Tumblr](https://scandalsavagefanfic.tumblr.com/)_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I missed any tags.


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